[ti]Ep 2.5[/ti]From the Wreckage [Closed]

[Flatline]

Flatline was not a part of anything that was going on around him, or at least not consciously. He had seen Sparkplug's arrival, had been informed previously about the general concept of what was going on... but past that it all became a hazed blur of nothingness. His frame had slumped offline again, shifting uncomfortably into a kind of restless slumber while his damage ravaged frame struggled to put itself back together with aid from the previous surgeries and reconstruction. He would have remained asleep, even though the sound of his own voice and a 'newcomer' shifting into the room, only... that changed fast.

A crackled pop, a creak of thin metal being bent...

A shrieking roar belted out into the relative quiet of the spare room turned medical bay, the sound animalistic and feral as it screamed out in pain that resonated deep from within. The small limb was not meant to be handled roughly; it was used for the most delicate of labors, and was tied securely into his neural net. The tiny fingers could practically be used as rulers, able to accurately measure between the small points and have upmost control of minute tools to work on delicate parts... but now the arm was twisted back and to the side in a direction it wasn’t meant to go, the already just repaired joint put under strain as the metal crooked and bent.

Paled optics had snapped open at this event, now searingly white as Flatline's frame lurched forward abruptly with a rattled pop of the restraints holding him at bay. There was no verbal word response to Knock Out's words, and in a way, the actual statement itself was probably not even heard to begin with, as the black and red mech now turned against the source of the pain, helm crooking down towards the smaller mech.

Sharply, with zero hesitation and thought over the matter, gnarled sharp teeth snapped together at the smaller Cybertronian's direction, a feral attempt to try to enact revenge and to get him to let go of him even if he wasn’t exactly anywhere within range of biting. Each time teeth collided with one another, a hollow clunk from its force resonated, trailed strands of Energon slinging between the sharp points, now actively running down along his jaw to flick down onto the ground.

The cried yowl returned a second time, but this time, it was more desperate and angry, fire and rage burning up within as Flatline wrenched and pulled at his restraints, trying to angle his body to relieve the pain from his secondary limb.

White optics locked down upon Knock Out, fiery white.

[Soundwave]

Sparkplug appeared to grab onto the meaning of why he showed the video, readily moving on and starting to look into the event itself and what it meant for the disease. She was goal oriented, and wasn’t letting idle chit chat or the more gossip oriented 'revelations' of the video catch her attention and misdirect her in a time wasting conversation on the matter. Any number of other Cybertronians may have gotten looped up into such a thing, teasing Knock Out, or asking about it, or whatever else... always looking to one up one another in some constant battle in the chain of command... but she was rolling right into the bottom line of getting Breakdown pushed higher on the list and that was good and something to note.

Knock Out seemed to have other plans however, appearing to miss a compliment of all things.

He wasn't the type to brush over a compliment.

While the femme spoke, Soundwave's helm turned to watch the red mech as he sat the sample down, and seemed to deathly focus in on Flatline. It did not appear he was just passing a nasty look, nor was he going to silently plot revenge... it seemed he was far more goal oriented, a goal that was pretty obvious to anyone that was paying close attention to the way he moved and how his posture had shifted from inert to something far more malicious...

The Vehicon in the room definitely picked up on it. Ever wary of something going wrong, the trooper's red visor snapped over to Knock Out as movement started to be made. There was a flicker of a response from him, taloned hands raising, a momentary lean forward as if debating moving in that direction to intervene, but... he opted not to, choosing to fall under the ideal that it was not his decision and not his place to try to stop something bad, despite the outcome of something possibly actually happening.

The shrill roar, the scream of pain... the trooper's helm canted down and to the side ever so slightly, passing Sparkplug and Soundwave into his line of sight in case he was ordered to do something...

But Soundwave had no intention to intervene at this time.

It was revenge. It was petty. It was foolish. And all in all? It really would normally have no place in a situation like this. Wasting time to inflict agony on one of their own team should be, and WAS simply beneath their standing, and they should be above it. However... Soundwave was choosing to let it go, and choosing to believe that it would work out well for the tests in the next few moments. If Flatline was flung into an absolute rage, than seeing how well the cure worked to mellow him out could be a point.

Or it was just a hollow excuse.

Really, this entire situation was a mess, and Soundwave was getting tired of it and didn't want to have to play babysitter to their CMO. The screen he was working on flicked active once again, starting to continue his work on a list of troopers, while he quietly backed up everything Sparkplug had done, so that if something went crazy here they had everyone in a second location. While this happened, he continued to watch, curious what would come next, but not exactly impressed in any way, a flat displeasure sliding through his frame as blue dappled on the seam of his visor again.

[Sparkplug]

Sparkplug finished her genuinely sincere little speech about their teamwork - even if she had reeled it off out of long-standing scholarly instincts to head off an eruption about being not given due credit, she'd worked with a lot of touchy mecha - and looked up at him.

Knock Out wasn't looking at her. He was staring at Flatline, and grinding his denta.

Uh oh.

The only good thing about what happened next, the only good thing, was that he at least put down the precious vial before he went absolutely crazy on Flatline.

"Knock Out! What the steaming hot smouldering slag-pool smelted damnation are you doing?!" she yelped, half drowned out by Flatline's roaring and screaming. Gesturing frantically at the vehicon, she ordered him, "Get back from this! He's spraying contaminated energon everywhere, and you're our only known-clean subject!"

Unfortunately, as much as she wanted to take her own advice, she needed to stay close to the vial and the workbench, which was dangerously within reach of the disaster unfolding behind her. Which meant that, more than likely, if she hadn't already been exposed to the plague, she was receiving a hearty dose of it now. What in the name of Primus's taut aft was Knock Out thinking? Why wasn't Soundwave stopping this?

Because they were both infected and going crazy.

Sparkplug reached deep into her vocabularly, took a deep breath and whispered savagely, "Unicron's scraplet-infested rust-riddled gyre-dance pleasurebot troupe in my recharge rack, are you serious?" Picking up the vial with feverish care, she carried it over to the analysis machine and inserted it, tapping the keys and trying not to be thrown off by the furious howls and wrenching attempts to escape happening right behind her.

Then she turned around, to try to contain the situation.

Okay. First of all, she had to remember that approaching this situation with lots of violent cursing and yelling was not a recipe that played well with psychotropic fury agents. Second, she had to bear in mind that despite Knock Out's seeming calm to this point, she had no idea just how close he'd been to the edge all along. Forgetting that had been a big mistake.

She raised both hands, then pressed them down as she enforced calm on herself. Raising her voice, she spoke as clearly as she could, over Flatline's constant howls. "Knock Out. You need to stop. You're infected, and it's mangling your judgement!" Casting around for something that might appeal to him in his current state, she added more quickly, "Don't let him distract you from saving your own life! And all our lives! If he breaks lose in here, he could smash everything! Ruin all the samples! Destroy the machinery that we can't replace! And if he dies, we won't have a test subject to work on!"

Casting about frantically, she thought for a second, then added in exasperation, "If you have to, you can punish him afterwards! When he's conscious enough to understand what's happening, and it can't be passed off later as you being under the virus! Cure him, cure yourself, then go to town! But right now, we need to focus!"

[Knock Out]

The shrieking roar should’ve been enough indication that he’d inflicted enough pain on Flatline for now, and yet he found himself still clutching the now-mangled tiny secondary arm at a horribly unnatural angle. He was confident in the restraints that bound the black and red mech, and while he found himself leaning back just a little out of instinct as he was snapped at? He didn’t find himself feeling any real fear that Flatline was going to get him. What did it matter if he did? Knock Out was already infected, and it was all Flatline’s fault.

All of this was. He’d brought this upon the Decepticon forces - he was the reason they had lost the Nemesis and everything in the process. The fact he was still alive was an insult, almost. He’d set them back so much and let things get to this point and why..? Because he was too petty to come and see Knock Out months ago when he first started seeing symptoms?

He stared defiantly back at Flatline. His own optics still their normal red coloration, not the brilliant, angry white like those of the other mech. Sparkplug was yelling - it was hard to hear over Flatline’s feral shrieking, but he could hear a string of rather creative phrasing.

Ah.

It wasn’t enough to pull him away, not yet, but he did loosen his grip some, the words bringing him back into reality and the present rather than the nagging urge to twist Flatline’s limb clean off. He couldn’t afford to lose his patience like that - not when they were so close to getting this whole thing fixed.

One thing that Sparkplug said seemed to stick with him - and that was that yes, he could punish Flatline afterwards. He wasn’t sure what Starscream planned to do with Flatline, but Primus be damned if he wasn’t going to have a part in whatever it was.

It was an awkward few moments where nothing seemed to be happening. He didn’t fully release his grip, but he didn’t finish what he’d started, either. Part of him wondered how he’d been allowed to do what he’d just done - Soundwave, he was certain, would’ve put a stop to things before they’d even had chance to escalate, snatching him from across the room with a tendril-like cable. But it hadn’t happened. A tiny silver lining in Soundwave being infected too, perhaps?

Mm.

He vented in slowly - inwardly counted to three, and then let go completely of Flatline’s secondary arm. Sparkplug was right, they had a job to do - things to focus on, lives to save.

He was okay. He’d just lost his temper there. It was overdue, and completely justified.

Turning fully then, he cast a nervous glance to Soundwave - expecting some form of punishment to come once he’d backed away from Flatline, but the Spymaster hadn’t moved.

“Ah, my apologies. I’m fine- really, I’m fine.”

He pushed off into a walk, making his way over to the analysis machine. It hadn’t been running long, but he stood by and watched it all the same, eager to see if Sparkplug’s coding had worked.

“I suppose at least this way, we have a perfect candidate for this, no?”

Flatline’s optics were white again now, meaning that he’d all but reverted to a completely feral state. The results from this experiment would be obvious in him over himself or Soundwave. He’d done them all a favor in making Flatline angry again!

Thank Primus for the restraints, though.

[Flatline]

Shrieking roars, paired with snarled biting into the open air... it was about the only thing Flatline COULD do to try to fight back against this mind numbing experience. He had no ability to use his arms to lash out, he couldn’t turn his torso at a ninety degree angle to remove the twisting force from Knock Out, and his harpoons didn't have the turning radius needed to aim at the red mech and shoot him, not that Flatline had any harpoons left to use. He was not able to even wrench one of his legs up and kick it out to push him away! Really, he was trapped, frame trembling as pain lanced through his processor, nearly crippling any semblance of thought in his desperation to just make it STOP.

Finally, after what felt like an eternity, Knock Out released his now re-damaged secondary.

Wrenching away, Flatline immediately attempted to angle his body in the opposite direction from the smaller mech, trying to move the second set of limbs out from his immediate reach. This lurching pull didn't allow him to turn all that much, but it did aid in 'throwing' the damaged appendage back up atop his abdomen, where it then shakily slid up to try to tuck underneath the flaring of his chest armor. The movements of the small arm were ragged and uncooperative, attempting to lock away and hide under the paneling there, but the new crook and bend didn't let it fold comfortably like its pair.

It was at least slightly protected, which... didn’t really mean much.

Shell shocked from the experience, Flatline rasped air into his angered systems, trying to cool off the heat that had built up in his desperate thrashing. His processor too shocked to really even start thinking past the moment, he simply remained lying in place staring at the ceiling as blue trailed out from the corner of his mouth. Once he settled into this state, he was mostly inert, save for the occasional twitch of the small fingers on the damaged arm, flicking erratically as connectors within misfired.

[Soundwave]

Nobody had to tell the Vehicon twice.

Not wanting to get infected, not wanting to anger one higher ranked than him, and not really sure what exactly to do even if he was tasked to intervene, the trooper was more than pleased to get out of the immediate line of fire, and move towards the far side of the room. He settled himself over by the few remaining boxes of extra supplies that had yet to be emptied, though were simply duplicates of other things already unloaded for easy reach. Here, he would be safe, unless Knock Out decided to rip off Flatline's arm and shake it AT him or did something else explosive to throw the tainted fuel all over.

Soundwave meanwhile, simply watched with as much unamusement that could be mustered with his rather limited expressive capabilities. His helm was downcast ever so slightly, and arms looped loosely at his sides. It was a pretty standard posture that he took overall, but a soft crook of his frame being slightly more hunched spoke volumes. Soon, Knock Out would need to see this was solving nothing, soon he would stop, or maybe soon either Sparkplug or he would be pushed into action to make the mech cease should he continue to terrorize. But soon... was not really happening as quickly as one would expect, as Knock Out continued to bring pain to Flatline, even as Sparkplug yelled out in colorful protest above the shrieking roars.

With a soft turn of the helm a couple degrees, Soundwave watched from the corner of his visor as the test vial was recovered and safely plugged into the machine that was getting its workout today. The sample being retrieved was one good thing in this cluster of madness. While re-uploading the code and starting from scratch was possible, and the loss of the vial would not set them back too far in the grand scheme of things, any step in the wrong direction was still the wrong direction.

Time ticking on... this petty revenge was being pushed a bit far at the moment...

Soundwave was more than ready for this to stop, and in a way almost expected to hear the belting roar of a circular saw to come to life any second now. If that happened than things would indeed be forced to end by him finally stepping in, but he didn't want to have to do that. the navy mech wanted Knock Out to get his frustration out, and then move on to task with the newfound focus that the venting brought forth, rather than to have his 'vengeance' cut short and then dwell angrily on what he would do later on. If it could flush out of his system temporarily with the therapeutic action, than it would be good, but... how much more were they expected to observe?

Thankfully, Knock Out listened to reason and backed down a moment later, responding to Sparkplug's words.

Behind Soundwave, the list of Vehicons continued to be populated on the screen.

[Sparkplug]

Sparkplug's tensed shoulders sagged slightly as Knock Out finally stepped away from Flatline, and, even better, spoke in a calm and sane fashion. It might be a sanity with the disease bubbling away under it, but it'd have to do.

She glanced at Flatline. The big mech was curling up as much as his restraints allowed - not a lot - and tugging away from Knock Out. At least he wasn't screaming and thrashing around anymore, and hadn't gone into stasis lock either. If that happened, she wasn't sure how it'd affect the flow of energon through his system. Might halt it entirely, and...

Her expression changed, and her optics flashed towards Knock Out.

"Uh. Just had a nasty thought. If a mecha enters stasis with this stuff in them, energon will more-or-less stop flowing, right? That's the whole point of stasis, so you stop fluid loss. Which, given the crystallisation process, would mean that all internal fluids will become solid crystal, blocking every fuel line, going rigid around every mechanism. Stasis lock would be so fatal. I think. Thoughts?"

She shook her helm, and turned towards the sampling machine. The previous results were still lingering in the on-board memory, and she pulled them up for comparison. The amount of psychotropics in the sample was still increasing slowly, but it was less than a linear process would have generated.

"Um," she murmured, cradling her chin in her fingers as she thought. "Hopeful. The generation of psychotropics has slowed down. Hard to tell for sure, since the sample was already so polluted. Okay. Let's try this instead."

Withdrawing the vial from the sampler and stepping to one side, she carefully unsealed it. Tilting the vial slowly, she let a couple of fat droplets drop onto the bench, beading up. Under other circumstances, she'd have worried more about putting the plague sample in something sterile and disposable, but with contaminated energon splattered over half the room it was so much wasted effort.

Surely it should have begun crystallising by now.

Her fingers drummed a quick, impatient beat on her thigh for a moment, then stilled as she made herself stop. Little filaments of harder material were beginning to form in the droplets, but very slowly, without yet gaining much structure.

Another minute passed.

The crystalline growth seemed to have stopped; the rest of the sample remained innocently liquid.

Sparkplug released a slow, long exhalation from her vents. "Gear-smashing axle torque, Knock Out, I think we've got something here. We need to do a quick check on a proportion of random nanites, see if the majority have converted. I'll get the sample from him over there-" she jerked a thumb at the vehicon, "-and load a few nanites, see how they do in a pure sample. If that plays out okay, then it'll be time for you to try it out on our two testers here."

It was promising. It was promising. And with plenty of time, and lots of equipment, there were probably a lot of other tests they could run to make sure the newly modified nanites were completely safe. Unfortunately, given the circumstances, the best method they had of testing the cure was to use it and see what happened.

"As soon as we get some decent containers of energon, better push a few cure nanites into that and let them get started on converting the whole thing, too. If this works, we're going to need a lot of it," she added mostly to herself.

[Knock Out]

Knock Out had turned his attention back to Flatline, eyeing him from across the room while he waited for the confirmation beep of the diagnostics machine.

Even if he’d had some momentary satisfaction in twisting the small limb of the other mech, it wasn’t nearly enough - not after all Flatline had done. From being the cause of all this mess, to the scratches down Knock Out’s faceplate that he’d still been unable to tend to, to the fact that Knock Out knew Flatline had somehow infected him with this thing, too.

To him? Flatline deserved all the pain in the world.

It was petty, it was spiteful, but- Flatline had ruined them. Through his own pettiness or pride of being unable to suck it up and visit Knock Out for routine checkups like he was supposed to. Everyone else did. Even Megatron. Just because Flatline had issue with the way Knock Out did things, didn’t mean he was above everyone else-

He’d tensed his frame again. Uncomfortably so. Servos clenched tightly at his sides, optics narrowed into a scowl that only seemed to lessen when Sparkplug spoke up.

He’d glance to her, a brief moment of panic written across his faceplate, almost like he’d been caught doing something he shouldn’t have - instantly relaxing and adjusting his weight, turning his attention onto her, now, instead of the other mech.

“Mm, well both Flatline and Soundwave have been through stasis. While we were still on the Nemesis before arriving here, I had to get them both stable, which required surgery. Uh-” he gestured to one of the boxes that’d been brought in. Inside this box were two smaller boxes, and it was in these that were the strange silver organ-like-growths that’d been removed from the two mechs. The boxes were sealed closed, and set to one side. “-The items I removed from said surgeries are over there, I’ve been unable to look at them in any real depth though, through lack of equipment or real means to do so.”

He’d stand up a little straighter, rolling his shoulders as he mulled over her words.

“Temporary stasis I am sure is alright - in short bursts, as what they both went through. Longer periods of time however and yes, it may be an issue. Not that we have any real means of testing this theory, but it does make sense.”

They could test it, technically - he’d be all for letting Flatline lay idle and seeing what happened, but that was the bitterness speaking, and he wouldn’t actually do that.

He was quiet again, gaze drifting back to Flatline. Not wishing him harm, but wondering how the other mech could’ve been so stupid as to let this get as bad as it was. A deep vent inward, and he'd shake his helm - turning back to Sparkplug.

“Mm? Well, that’s good to hear! Let me know if there’s anything you need me to do in the meantime.” he knew he had to focus, he had to stay focused on the task at hand, and not let Sparkplug do all the work herself but his processor was drifting, the shock of finding out he was infected himself, the anger at Flatline, the exhaustion over everything was catching up to him all at once. He was used to going days without any real recharge or rest, carrying out complex and almost non-stop surgeries during the war - but this was entirely different. It was unknown territory, and out of his comfort zone entirely, to the point that he seemed almost at a loss.

“Speaking of containers of energon, where the frag is that Vehicon!” annoyance in his tone then - he turned to scowl at the Spymaster - who’s attention was on the console screen - almost as if Soundwave would have all the answers as to the whereabouts of their missing Vehicons and their precious cargo.

[Soundwave]

There were so many possible ways that this disease could have been far more fatal. While it would not be as simple as a change or tweak in code so they couldn’t turn it into a weapon easily, the fact the Energon didn’t just start to crystallize within their lines was a notable blessing. Then again, if that was a symptom, than catching it before it potentially spread so far would have been abundantly easier, the ailment actually bricking entire limbs or organs, if not straight up killing the individual. This was going to be a possible threat though despite this if they were put under stasis for longer term, Sparkplug's assumption a very reasonable worry even if Flatline and himself have survived going under a blade.

As if suddenly overly aware of this fact while Knock Out spoke, Soundwave's fingertips gingerly curled on his left hand, the joints flexing ever so slightly, and hinges stretching to their full extent to feel for any grit or ache that may lay beneath the surface. Thankfully, there was nothing. A clear result of nothing noticeably felt, only thing being a small bit of grit and dirt from the week's events where he was digging through supplies and prepping things for transport.

Meanwhile, the Vehicon stood on the other side of the room patient and quiet. He did not make his presence known again, and he did not actively do anything to draw attention or distract. In a way, he was doing his best impression of Soundwave by remaining silent, or at least he was until he was referenced directly. Dipping his helm down slightly in acknowledgment, the trooper showed he was listening, and that he was willing to do what was needed, even if it was taking more fuel from him in the process. He would go still after this.

Soundwave however was focusing back on task as Sparkplug worked and spoke about the potential cure and Knock Out spoke of the growths, the master list eventually appearing to be fully populated. Every trooper, every Eradicon, every miner and worker of any type... every occupant of the Decepticon fleet down to the last little cleaner all the way up to Starscream's chosen fleet were categorized into the most appropriate order that could be guessed at the moment. Taking into account when Knock Out may have been infected, when their last Medical Bay visit was, plus who they worked alongside and the likelihood of Energon transfer with injuries... the list appeared random, just a vomit of names thrown at a metaphorical dartboard, but it was tidy and there was reason behind the madness. With this done, the program saved the data, before it minimized onto the main window.

"Speaking of containers of Energon-"

Soundwave was an efficient individual, and liked to have a task. Even when he wasn't fighting off the disease, he appreciated a good goal and something to focus in on to keep his mind working. Because of this, the red medic didn't even have to finish what he was saying, before the communication window was drawn up onto Soundwave's sliver of the screen, continuing to leave Sparkplug ample room to work should she need it. A flicker of a second later, and the trooper from before was being rung up with a command to report, there only a faltering moment before the communication line crackled to life a flicker after Knock Out finished his question.

::RGE-529: Reporting. Storage room located. Minor difficulty with HKJ-725 concluded. Currently loading cargo onto functional hover lift. Did you require something else?::

He sounded tired, but professional, cutting straight to the point to update on what was going on.

[Sparkplug]

Listening with half an audial, Sparkplug set about finding a clean syringe. After the spray of energon from Flatline, she had to assume anything out in the open at the time was at least subtly contaminated. An even more cautious assumption would be that everything in the room was contaminated, her included, but they didn't have the time or supplies to operate at that level of justified paranoia. Opening a closed box, she selected a syringe from the bottom of the contents.

That'd have to do.

Moving over to the quiet vehicon in the corner, she said briefly, "Right then, you. Arm, please. Don't worry, I'm just taking a little sample." It had been quite a while since she'd needed to use such a thing on some mecha that was actually alive – her practice and skill was in constructing the bodies, not caring for them once they were animate – but it wasn't like the syringe was a complex tool.

So short bursts of stasis weren't fatal. That was interesting. When energon was out of the body, that crystallised pretty quickly… perhaps there was some factor relating to being inside a functioning chassis that inhibited the crystallisation response? If it had been built originally as an anti-contamination measure, it did make sense that it'd allow for at least some periods of stasis without killing the host. Hm. Nodding in a distracted way at the vehicon, she removed the needle and carried the sample over to the workbench. Picking up an eyedropper, she dripped a little of the theoretically-cured energon into the vial, closed the lid, and shook it vigorously.

The activation of the screen drew her attention from the test tube in her hand. She blinked in recognition. "Oh hey, Reggie. See you managed not to get crushed or flooded out in the end. Good job with the cargo, we'll want that back quick. Syringes and basic medical stuff would be useful, but if it'd slow you down, you can give that as a separate shipment after. Other than that-" she paused, thinking, then added, "-nothing that I need right now. Knock Out? Anything? Otherwise…"

She trailed off, then looked at the sample in her hand again, a frown on her face. "No filaments forming. It's damn-near reckless, but given the time pressure we're under, Flatline's definitely going to die if we don’t do something. I think it's time to try this stuff on the patient. Pretty sure at worst, it won't be worse than what he's already got going on." With a wary glance at the restrained mech, she added, "Which, uh – that administration is your department, I think."

[Knock Out]

Aah, thank Primus that Soundwave was on the ball. Either that, or he’d had the same thought as Knock Out - in that the Vehicon was taking far, far too long in returning and had checked in with him quietly before Knock Out had even breached the topic. Not that it mattered, the response was a good one. He’d personally seen the state of some of the storage rooms closer to the bow of the Nemesis and had been worried there wouldn’t be much left to salvage, but maybe RGE-529 had found some further back that were mostly unscathed.

A glance to Sparkplug as she spoke up - it seemed she knew the more serious of the Vehicons, and while he didn’t really care for the cannon fodder, he made a small mental note to try and remember the name Reggie. As she responded, he’d look around the temporary Medical Bay, trying to think of anything that would be both easy and actually possible to bring back. Time was of the essence here, and as much as he wanted to request that a trip was made to his personal quarters to retrieve some of the waxes he hadn’t managed to grab on his way out of the ship, he knew there were far more important matters at hand.

::Ah, yes - what Sparkplug said. Good job finding a storage room that hasn’t been obliterated by the crash.:: he was thankful that one of the Vehicons still on the Nemesis had some sense about him. If it were just HKJ-725 looking, well- they’d probably be shit out of luck.

::If there are any basic medical supplies grab those, too - if you have the means to carry them out. But other than that I don’t think we need anything else right now. At least not to the point it’s worth risking your life over, anyway.::

With a hum, he’d look back at Sparkplug, gaze shifting past her a moment to Flatline as she spoke. He felt a little bad for the restrained mech as he lay there quietly and probably in pain, thinking back to the brief moment of anger that’d radiated through his frame, causing him to lash out and twist the other mechs secondary arm out of place…

Would Flatline have done something similar if the roles were reversed? Probably. Both were as petty as the other.

Even despite that fact Knock Out had been confirmed as infected, he had to continue working and continue to help Sparkplug. The infection was scary, but it oddly helped in this situation, in that he COULD get up close and personal with Flatline - if Energon was splattered his way, it wasn’t like it’d do anything more. He was already sick, and it was Flatline’s fault.

“Indeed. Depending on if this works - which I’m hoping it will - we can see about… ah, broadening the test subjects a little more.” a not-so-obvious glance was shot in Soundwave’s direction at that. Soundwave had been infected, too - and just like Flatline he had had a weird metallic growth extracted from his frame. Their symptoms had been mostly similar that he could tell. Aside from one difference.

Soundwave hadn’t snapped, and given the time frame? Was probably overdue.

Which was a terrifying and constant thought at the back of Knock Out’s processor.

With a gentle ‘ahem’ to clear his throat, drawing his attention and focus back to the task at hand, he’d make his way across the room to grab one of the few syringes that’d been supplied.

“I’ll go ahead and do that, then. If you have nothing left to do until we get more equipment from Reggie, maybe ah, start a log on what you did for official reports? I am sure Starscream will be most interested in how you went about fixing this mess. Well, hopefully fixing, anyway. Or-” he paused, frowning.

“No easy way to say this, but now we know what we’re looking for in terms of infected Nanites, you could run a sample of your own. Given that I am infected, and we aren’t sure how it’s spread? Realistically speaking, nobody is safe from this.”

He’d move to stand beside Flatline, making a point not to get too close just yet, just incase he felt another wave of annoyance toward the other mech and found himself backhanding him - instead holding out an outstretched servo so Sparkplug could hand him the vial of what would hopefully be the answer to their problem.

[Soundwave]

The Vehicon complied with Sparkplug with ease, not pitching a fit or looking too uncomfortable. It didn’t matter if she wasn't particularly practiced with working on living individuals, for steadiness of hand was universal in that regard, and as long as she didn’t plunge the needle completely through the line it would be more than ok. As such, he silently watched as the vial filled, helm crooking a bit to the side as she retracted the syringe and nodded absently in thought. He wondered what was on her mind, but did not bring it up, his free hand rising to press the back of a talon firmly along the rubber line to help encourage it to seal up quicker.

After this, he would return to trying to stay small and inactive, watching with care and listening hard to hear what the other trooper was reporting.

There was a pause in the transmission when Sparkplug replied, a momentarily lull before Reggie spoke again.

::Not without the ship trying::

This was perhaps the closest this particular Vehicon would get to a joke, the reply flat and yet somehow spoken in a reporting tone despite the almost sarcastic phrasing of it all. After this was said however, he continued to the structured way of speaking from before, remaining professional as could be given the events recently.

::Current shipment will be ready for pickup shortly. After delivery, I will seek out medical wares. Navigation difficult, fielding second request will take time, but should be manageable with minimal risk given caution::

It was nice Knock Out was feigning concern for his well being, but Reggie knew he was a Vehicon, and he had an obligation to serve the Decepticon Army even if it put his life at risk. So long as he took his time maneuvering the ship, and kept his wits about him, he would be able to try to look specifically for medical wares to begun emptying out anything of value that may remain after the initial passes done by Soundwave himself.

While Reggie set himself back to task, it appeared everyone's attention was shifting to the rather impromptu decision to move from a fuel container for testing, to an actual living subject. It was a rather aggressive jump all things considered, for they didn't barely test the cure past a cursory look... but... time may not be on everyone's side, and any number of other troopers could be on the verge of causing problems. It wasn't the best calculated risk however as far as Soundwave thought, given Flatline's experience with medicine and manufacturing...

But Sparkplug had manufacturing experience too.

A death wouldn’t cripple their abilities to produce replacement limbs.

Soundwave did not interact, interject, or really... do anything in response to what the two other Cybertronian were doing, at least until Knock Out made a 'sly' comment that was far from subtle. At his sideways statement about broadening the test subjects, Soundwave's helm slightly turned in his direction, giving a sort of passing warning glance before angling back to task. While they could theoretically lose Flatline, Soundwave was going to be a bit of a stickler and require more individuals cured before he offered his own lines to the new aggressive nanite system. Once Knock Out dared to flush it through his own system, only then he would be a bit more keen to allow such a thing to be injected into his.

It wasn't a fear situation, it wasn’t out of pride... but as egotistical as it may sound, Soundwave recognized his skill set and contributions, and did not plan to be felled by haste and negligence. It would be a notable loss to the Decepticon Army should he fall.

---

Flatline was inert and inactive. He did not move nor react as Knock Out moved beside him.

[Sparkplug]

Nodding at the vehicon on screen, Sparkplug gave a wry grin at the mech's dead-pan flash of humour. "I just bet it's giving you all the trouble you can manage. Move careful, y'hear?" She could empathise entirely with how dangerous and uncomfortable the crashed ship had to be - a shiver ran up her spinal struts at the mere memory of those dark corridors echoing with long, ticking groans of metal under unendurable strain. Nope. She admired Reggie's willingness to risk his chassis down there, and didn't share it one bit.

Not that she was necessarily any safer where she was at that moment. Knock Out's glance towards Soundwave was an unnerving reminder that the lethal, inscrutable mech was as deeply infected as any they knew of, and very much not restrained for their safety.

Oh, and she might be infected too.

Sparkplug winced, her expressive field shrinking a little closer to her chassis at the reminder, but she nodded reluctantly. "Yeah, I'm probably infected. I'd better confirm my own status. Maybe see how advanced it is, if I scan for those psychotics that the malign nanites are manufacturing."

She looked down at the vial and hesitated, then slowly reached out with her long arm and laid it in Knock Out's hand. "Don't get me wrong - this is a promising lead, but nanites are tricky and complicated. Under normal circumstances, I'd want to run this coding through a simulator a few dozen times, let it stew for a few solar cycles, check long-term stability under massive replication... but, well, he's not far off permanent deactivation by the look of him, and we still don't fully know just what those evil little vermin are up to in his system."

Shaking her helm, she recognised she was delaying. With a vented sigh, she added, "Perfect is the enemy of good. Let's see how this goes down. Take a sample every few breems, maybe - given the coding change, the cure should propagate at the same rate the infection did originally."

Moving over to the box of syringes, she removed another from the bottom of the pile, and carefully pressed it against her own arm. She was more familiar with her own anatomy than anyone, having repeatedly rebuilt and modified herself, and any squeamishness was long forgotten - the vial filled with her own energon smoothly and without hassle. And then... well, then it was just a matter of inserting the sample into the analyser and waiting. Her shoulders hunched slightly as she stared at it for a moment, before turning away. There were other things she could do while she waited for it to process.

With extreme care, she approached Soundwave's terminal, making no sudden movements. "As Knock Out suggested, I had better write up what I've done so far. If this doesn't work, and I end up-" a frothing, murderous lunatic, or better yet, violently dismantled when one of the mechs in this room finally snap, "-incapacitated, we'll need mecha on the outside to have access to my progress and theories so far."

It was highly likely he'd just step aside enough to get her use the keyboard, but she really, really wasn't feeling like taking things for granted at that moment.

[Knock Out]

Knock Out wouldn’t give a vocal response to the Vehicon, figuring Sparkplug probably had that covered - although he could appreciate that even despite the dangers the trooper found himself in? He was willing to go back and try to gather more medical supplies. He certainly would’ve been questioning any orders to go back into the Nemesis, but he’d already spent enough time trapped down in the sunken vessel and would rather not go back until it was airborne once more.

Whenever that would be.

His optics would furrow into a gentle frown as Sparkplug seemed to resign herself to the fact that she was infected as well… Ugh, honestly, because of him? Most of the Decepticons probably were. Why the other Vehicon in the room wasn’t was probably due to some weird luck, but at least some possible good had come from it.

“Uh, my apologies in advance if you are. Then again it wasn’t like I had any idea myself…” he did feel a little awful about the whole thing, but found himself again questioning why he had felt completely fine this entire time - he was rather thorough with his own checkups to the point of being almost obnoxious about it and yet… had somehow missed this in himself.

Problems to mull over later, though. For now they had to try this fix on Flatline and see if they were heading in the right direction or had to start completely over with a new theory.

Normally this whole thing would’ve been done in a more controlled environment. More samples run, more tests carried out - and only after all those came back clear after a long period of controlled time would they even humor the idea of running this on a living patient… but it wasn’t like they had the time to do anything but.

Flatline was as good as dead anyway, and if he did end up perishing from this moment at least he would’ve died doing something useful in helping them work toward fixing the mess he had brought upon them all.

Taking the vial, he’d bob his helm in thanks.

“Oh, I know - it goes against everything I learned to jump straight to this point, but… Flatline drew this out to the point we no longer have a choice, especially as most of us are no doubt infected now as well. If we had more time we could - and would - carry out more tests, unfortunately though that is not the case.”

His gaze drifted downward to the vial, then to Flatline who was still completely motionless. Even if the black and red mech did survive this, would he really want to? There was no telling what Starscream would do to him - it was no secret now that he was patient zero in this whole thing.

“I do like your idea, though - then again there isn’t a whole lot we can do except keep an eye on Flatline. Both him and his Energon, anyway. Hopefully he will improve to the point that he’s stable and on the upswing. I have my fingers crossed for a complete fix, but it’s never that easy.” he chuckled, shaking his helm.

He wouldn’t watch as Sparkplug drew Energon, trusting the femme to run the sample herself and not delay things or avoid doing it entirely. He did, however, spare a glance as she moved over to the terminal in the moments after. The smallest flicker of worry in his field - hoping Soundwave would simply allow her to complete her task without issue.

Then again if there was issue, at least she was now between Soundwave and himself.

A horrible thing to think, but it’d buy him some time to run away.

“Alright Flatline, lets see if this works.” he spoke aloud as he went back to the task at hand, leaning in some. Flatline was completely restrained - but the white optics unnerved him. Trying not to show any fear though, he’d gently ease one of Flatline’s arms just slightly so he could get to the crook of his elbow, and from there he would use the syringe to draw the altered nanite solution from the vial into it, injecting it into Flatline’s energon line a moment later. He was fast, fluid and professional with the injection - having done things like this more times than he could count.

Not wanting to stand too close when he did not need to, he would take a sharp step back and away from the other mech once the task had been complete.

And now the waiting game began.

[Soundwave]

The analyzer chirped as it began to work on Sparkplug's sample, churning away while she set off to a new task.

At first, it appeared as if the femme's approach was unnoticed, not garnering an immediate reaction out of the slender Cybertronian. He continued to stare ahead, working in silence, not hesitating or faltering in the slightest... that is... until she actually spoke and started to articulate what she needed. The moment her words began to filter out, Soundwave's work paused, and his helm gradually turned to angle some in her direction. A slicked inky visor caught reflections from the surrounding environment, the turn of his helm stopping as her own reflection seemed to stare back at her on the glass surface.

A brief moment passed as Soundwave's faceless visage looked back down at the weapons expert, before he eased back and to the side to allow her access to the computer terminal in full, his programs minimizing. While the data cable still linked him to the terminal itself, it would not impede any work the femme needed to accomplish while allowing Soundwave access should he need to jot down his own notes on a side program. Worst case scenario she could knee the data line if she were not paying heed, but Soundwave liked to think the illuminated structure would be easy to avoid especially since it didn't protrude very far.

Now that Soundwave was angled away from the Terminal to look at the rest of the room, he watched as Knock Out approached Flatline and injected the potential cure. It went without saying to assume such a thing was being recorded, cataloged and time stamped to make sure they knew when things turned for the better, or made a violent downswing to worse. Whatever the outcome may be, he simply observed.

Not that there was much to observe...

Flatline did not seem to react much; he didn’t stir or jostle around, for now he remained inert and effectively asleep, his system trying to recover. This was probably for the best in case the injected Nanites caused an unpleasant reaction, for then he wouldn't be conscious for the ordeal. However as quiet as Flatline seemed to be, it was Soundwave of all people who made a noise next.

A tiny computerized blip chirped, faint and small, correlating with his visor illuminating with coordinates and topographical data. It all happened rather quickly, the smallest of warnings that something was going to happen. In fact, the chirping sound was completely unneeded, only done TO give the two workers a slight heads up, before a booming roar ripped out and a Space Bridge portal tore open across the room.

Dancing teal and white, thrown color that flicked at the distortions that wobbled on the border of the gateway... A few seconds after the portal was formed, a sort of shadow formed within its center, soon growing in shape before it breached the light veil. A clunk of wheels landing on the rough flooring, a tired sigh flipping out...

"This is all I could find for now, but many areas have yet to be sorted."

A familiar voice.

Reggie stopped rolling the dolly once it was completely free from the Space Bridge, standing upright while clawed hands still clutched onto the horizontal handle. He looked ragged and tired, new scuffs littering his armor all over, while water staining and salt creep clutched onto his lower legs with a few spots along his forearms. Slung around his torso was a machine gun, the weapon hanging from a strap that too had some salt staining along the fibers.

Once the soldier settled a moment, he stood upright and rose his hand into a salute.

"Requesting permission to return to task."

The cart he delivered looked to be an ample supply of Energon. Plenty of cubes, a few larger containers, as well as smaller individual ration packages that were meant to be taken on missions... While there was a variety of vessels showing it was all scavenged from different areas, some clean, some a bit messier, it all contained the same thing.

Viable fuel.